It's My Party
by Red Witch
Summary: Mallory decides to try to find new sources of revenue for her agency. By throwing a party and having her staff attend. Can you see the major flaw in this plan?
**Mallory Archer stole the disclaimer telling all of you that I don't own any Archer characters. As well as some artwork that you've probably heard about in the news. Just more madness from my tiny mind. As if you didn't know. Takes place right before the season finale.**

 **It's My Party**

"So you **still** don't know where Woodhouse is?" Lana asked as she and Archer emerged from the broom closet.

"Not a clue," Archer said as he zipped up his fly. "The last time he was gone this long was the time Mother sent him to Mexico for some reason. I don't know what happened during that time but he came back wearing nothing but a speedo and a sombrero and was reeking of coconut oil."

"Yikes. Just got **that** mental picture in my head," Lana groaned. "What's going on over there?"

Several police officers were walking away with large picture frames and headed towards the elevator. "Why are they taking away art from…? That looks like the art in Mother's office! Are those repo guys?" Archer blinked.

"Unless they're moonlighting as cops I doubt it," Lana groaned. "Great. What fresh Hell has Mallory come up with now?"

They went into the office which no longer had artwork on the walls. The other members of the agency were there waiting for them. "It's about time," Mallory grumbled. "Where were you two?"

"You totally **missed it!"** Cheryl giggled.

"Mallory why are the police taking your paintings?" Lana blinked. "And what is that in your hand?"

"A summons to appear in court," Mallory sighed as she sat at her desk. "Let's just say there's been some concerns about the artwork in my office. Correction, the artwork that **used** to be in my office."

"She nearly got dragged to jail because she stole those art paintings!" Pam laughed. "And she's got a major lawsuit on her hands!"

"I didn't steal them! I had no idea I paid for stolen merchandise!" Mallory barked. "And thank you very much Pam for bringing the authorities into this!"

"How is this my fault? I'm not a squealer!" Pam protested.

"You put up pictures of my office on your stupid blog!" Mallory snapped.

"Oh like I'm the only one!" Pam snorted. "You put them on your blog too!"

"You're in charge of my blog!" Mallory snapped.

"And you told me what to put on there!" Pam snapped back. "And I remember you specifically saying to have me do some pages on the art on your wall so you could rub it in Trudy Beekman's fat face that you had an original…"

"I never said that! You have no witnesses I said that!" Mallory interrupted.

"Uh yeah I heard you say that," Cheryl spoke up.

"You have no **credible** witnesses I said that!" Mallory amended.

"Oh for the love of…" Lana rolled her eyes. "Seriously Mallory? Don't we have **enough** problems without you making more?"

"That's your son's job," Ray quipped.

"Well you're not wrong," Mallory admitted.

"Hey!" Archer barked.

"Shut up!" Mallory snapped.

"You're the one who told me to get those paintings from…" Archer began.

"I said **shut up**!" Mallory shouted.

"Oh like we couldn't have figured that out on our own!" Pam scoffed.

"Yeah," Cheryl snickered. "Figured what out?"

"Can we please get on with the meeting before we all get involved in **another lawsuit**?" Cyril groaned.

"Although odds are it might end up that anyway," Lana groaned. "So what morally shady mission does the CIA want us to do now?"

"This isn't a CIA mission," Mallory waved. "This is more…personal."

"Oh this never ends well…" Archer groaned.

Mallory took a pause before speaking. "It's not much of a secret by now that since our Summer of Cocaine, Country Music and Coups my personal social standing within high society has been a little unstable."

"A **little** unstable?" Archer laughed. "Mother, the Middle East is a **little unstable**! Even I know your social life is pretty much a disaster!"

"Yes well…" Mallory coughed.

"Didn't half your former friends cut you dead and ban you from at least two country clubs?" Ray asked.

"Shut up!" Mallory glared at Ray.

"And didn't a lot of people take the side of the wife of that guy you were trying to have phone sex with during your open marriage phase?" Pam spoke up.

"You too! Shut up!" Mallory glared at Pam.

"And didn't you openly threaten that one woman who was with Ron at that restaurant?" Cyril spoke up.

"Who turned out to be his niece?" Archer added.

"And then there was the incident where you pulled that gun on a waiter at another restaurant…" Lana added. "In front of a whole bunch of people you were trying to impress."

"The Tuntmore Hotel fiasco," Pam added.

"The Jackson Wainscott Funeral fiasco," Cyril added.

"All those other funeral fiascos," Ray added.

"Your dinner party fiascos," Cyril added. "Including the one where that hooker overdosed and died in front of that senator and his wife?"

"And the other dinner party fiasco where that other hooker died along with that UN guy," Krieger asked. "And we had to make it look like a murder suicide."

"Your constant social climbing war with Trudy Beekman," Archer added. "Which honestly she's winning by a landslide. Because a lot of people think she's a saint and you're well...not."

"And don't a lot of people just not like you and…" Cheryl began.

"All of you **shut up**!" Mallory shouted.

"Mother just forget about it," Archer waved.

"How can I with that bitch Trudy Beekman blabbing her mouth all over town about my marriage and how I have **another** grandchild?!" Mallory hissed. "Born out of wedlock **again!** Thank god Abbiejean is black and not Irish!"

"Really? Black beats Irish?" Pam raised an eyebrow.

"Duh! Yes Pam!" Archer scoffed. "Everyone knows that! Everyone but Ray."

"You know…?" Ray glared at Archer giving him a middle finger with his new bionic black hand.

"Of course there are some snobs that don't know any better but I don't really care about them because most of those bitches are also Irish tarts!" Mallory huffed.

"I take it you're still upset about Mrs. O'Harris and her not inviting you to her fancy tea social thing last week?" Ray asked.

"Give Tinkerbell some fairy dust and a wand! Exactly!" Mallory snarled. "Who does that bitch think she is? Lording herself around town like Mary Queen of Scotts!"

"I thought you said she was Irish?" Cheryl was confused.

"She is. I just don't know the names of any Irish queens," Mallory admitted. "Gillette may but not the ones I want to reference."

"You know…?" Ray gave her a look.

"I need to do something to cement my status back in high society and fast!" Mallory ignored him. "That is why I am going to throw a little party of my own."

"Oh God no…" Cyril moaned.

"Mother I'm going to save you some trouble and disinvite myself right now," Archer spoke up.

"Yeah the last thing we want to do is play servant at your fancy shmancy party," Pam agreed. "This isn't Downton Abbey you know?"

"And every time we go to your apartment something horrible always happens," Cyril added.

"You've only been to my apartment three times," Mallory rolled her eyes.

"Three people in total died the first two times and we nearly all died the last time!" Cyril barked. "That's more than enough for me!"

"In the first place, I'm not hiring any of you idiots to do any serving! You couldn't even pretend to be servants for a few hours during that mess at Tunt Manor with the royal Durhani family!" Mallory snapped. "There is no way in hell I'm going to make people think I can't hire competent help!"

"Really? No one is going to touch that?" Archer snorted.

"And secondly, **shut up**!" Mallory growled at her son before moving on. "It's not going to be at my apartment. Like I'd willingly let you apes back in after the last fiasco! It is going to be at the Grant Tunt Hotel."

" **Another** one of Cheryl's properties? Please tell me there are no killer plants at this place!" Ray groaned.

"No. The staff complained and the union shut that idea down years ago," Cheryl waved. "Not to mention the orangutan wrestling matches. Just as well. They weren't as much fun as you think they would be. At least until my uncle added the crocodile pit. But by then we had so many complaints from PETA and the mayor's wife when that monkey threw up on her…"

"If you don't mind I'd like you to shut up now!" Mallory interrupted. "Look all you idiots have to do is show up and pretend to be human beings for one night! Although I realize that might be a stretch for some of you."

"So what exactly are we doing?" Lana asked.

"Most of you are going to pretend to be high society people from out of town. Sterling you and Lana are going to be yourselves. Let me rephrase that… **Better** versions than yourselves!" Mallory instructed. "Lana you pretend that your family is actually wealthy but you just work for me because you're bored and giving back to society and blah, blah, blah!"

"Considering all the money Slater is paying my father to not use his research that's not so far off," Lana groaned.

"Sterling you are going to play the loving devoted fiancé of Lana and so help me if you even look at another vagina…" Mallory hissed.

"Mother I think we can handle that," Archer gave her a look. "Wait, _fiancé?"_

"It's just for one night!" Mallory scoffed. "Just pretend you get along for once and **don't screw it up**!"

"And what is this party for may I ask?" Lana sighed. "Knowing I probably opened myself up as a possible witness for the prosecution."

"It's a charity event," Mallory said as she poured herself another drink. "An event those high society snobs will jump through their platinum plated hoops for."

"This isn't going to be like that TBA fiasco in California a few years ago is it?" Cyril groaned.

"All right again! In the first place it sounded like a real disease!" Mallory snapped. "How was I supposed to know that that family…Whose name I swore to never repeat…Never picked out a disease and the initials stood for To Be Announced? And I wasn't the only one scammed out of a lot of money!"

"I'm just glad we didn't go to that Host vs. Graft fiasco fundraiser in that jail," Archer groaned.

"Well this will be an actual charity event!" Mallory huffed.

"For what?" Lana asked.

"Ocelots," Mallory said. "We are going to save the ocelots. Which reminds me Cheryl I need you to bring…What's its name again?"

"Babou," Cheryl spoke up.

"Babou is coming? This party is gonna be off the hook!" Archer cheered.

"Are ocelots endangered?" Pam asked.

"Technically they are on the endangered species list," Cyril said. "Although they are on least concerned status they're on it."

"Least concerned is good?" Archer asked.

"It means they're making a comeback and there's data to support it so yeah," Cyril said.

"Way to go Babou! We should have a party!" Cheryl said.

"We are you…Ugh! Cheryl you are obviously going as yourself just a better version," Mallory said. "Which should not be that hard of a stretch."

"I don't want to be myself! I want to be Lady Carol Smythe-Higgenbottom!" Cheryl spoke up. "Of the Southampton Smythe-Higgenbottoms who are close relations to the Tunts due to the twin sister of Terrance Tunt eloping with a lowly fisherman who became the head of a fishing and shipping empire!"

"Wow, you got your backstory all set," Archer was admittedly impressed.

"I'm only asking because I have a feeling this might be on a test or something," Pam spoke up. "Cheryl are there actually any real Smythe-Higgenbottoms?"

"Of course not! Terriana Tunt never had any heirs!" Cheryl snorted. "She died like almost immediately when the guy she was eloping with choked her to death and stole her jewelry. Then threw her body into the ocean as he sailed away to Portugal. They found her half eaten body on the shore a few days later. Her eyes plucked out by the crabs that…"

"Stop right **there**!" Mallory shouted. "I don't want to hear anymore!"

"Ewww…" Lana winced.

"Damn girl," Ray grimaced. "That's just messed up!"

"Terrance Tunt tracked down Henry Higgenbottom to Portugal to avenge his twin sister," Cheryl went on. "Unfortunately Terrance ended up spending a few days in the very whorehouse Henry Higgenbottom purchased with his stolen loot. And Henry turned out to be a better shot."

"I said I didn't want to hear any more," Mallory groaned.

"And that is how the feud between the Tunt Family and the Higgenbottom family started," Cheryl said. "Which continues to this very day."

"She tells me anyway," Mallory rolled her eyes.

"Then why are you naming your cover as a Higgenbottom if your families hate each other?" Ray asked.

"I'm calling myself after the Smythe-Higgenbottoms. The Higgenbottoms hate them even more than us," Cheryl explained. "See it has to do with Henry's older sister Henrietta running off with Simon Smythe who turned out to be the illegitimate child of Old Horrace Higgenbottom, Henry and Henrietta's grandfather."

"Ewww!" Several people exclaimed.

"Again so messed up," Ray groaned.

"And coming from a gay cyborg hillbilly with a black hand that's saying something," Mallory groaned. "If we are now done with Master-Piece-Of-Crap Theater, can we finish the debriefing?"

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say that any money we do raise from the scam…" Lana began.

"Fundraiser," Mallory corrected.

"Which is a scam because you are obviously planning on keeping the money!" Lana finished.

"I'm not keeping the money! I'm putting the money into the agency! Which we sorely need!" Mallory barked. "And since nobody in their right mind will go to a fundraiser for a spy agency we're going with this!"

"And what happens if and when the CIA finds out about this?" Cyril asked.

"They're not because you're not going to say anything! When we get the money you are going to cook the books to make it look like we got an outside donation!" Mallory said.

"From **who**?" Ray asked. "The Adopt A Spy Rescue Shelter?"

"I haven't figured out the exact details yet!" Mallory waved. "I'll come up with something plausible by Saturday! And speaking of plausible there are back stories for the rest of you!"

She pointed to some folders on her desks. "These are your covers as human beings. Memorize them! And don't screw this up!"

"I'm Fyril Ciggis?" Cyril looked at his folder. " _Fyril?"_

"Wow Mother you must have really thought long and hard over **that name!"** Archer laughed.

"I can't be Fyril! That's not even a real name!" Cyril barked.

"Fine! Pick your own first name!" Mallory snapped. "But your backstory is the same! You are the head of a prestigious accounting firm in Ohio. The firm of Ciggis, Ciggis and Brownstein."

"Ciggis…" Archer laughed.

"Fine I choose…" Cyril thought of something. "Randy Ciggis."

"WHAT? NO! You can't be Randy! **I'm** Randy!" Archer barked.

"Actually I'm Randy," Cyril smiled. "Randolph Ciggis the Second named after my father Randolph Ciggis the First. Randy Two to my family and close friends."

"You are going to be Randy the Last if you don't change that name!" Archer barked.

"Sterling let him have the stupid name!" Mallory barked. "Actually it does kind of suit him."

"Yeah I can totally see you as a Randy," Ray admitted.

"It works for you," Lana nodded.

"No, it **doesn't!** " Archer barked.

"Yes it does Sterling, so stop pouting and let's get on with this!" Mallory barked. "Pam you're next."

"I'm Eleanor Bouvier," Pam put on a fake rich accent. "From the Wisconsin Bouviers. I own all the cheese and dairy farms in the land! Ho! Ho! Ho!"

"Close enough," Mallory groaned.

"Ooh! I'm Dr. Krieger! Wait a minute…" Krieger frowned.

"Again I thought it was best for **you** to not have a backstory that was **too complicated** ," Mallory huffed. "But you're a heart surgeon who currently works in Atlanta Georgia."

"That sounds familiar for some reason," Krieger blinked.

"Like maybe it's you in another life?" Cheryl spoke up.

"You're not going to have this one for much longer if you idiots screw this assignment up!" Mallory snapped. "Especially Krieger if you bring one of your irradiated animals to this thing!"

"Awww…Man," Krieger pouted.

"Manny Quinn?" Ray did a double take at his profile. "A well-known fashion critic? _Manny Quinn?_ Really?"

"You're lucky I didn't make you Captain Hook!" Mallory barked. "I needed someone to represent the entertainment industry. And for the love of god wear gloves! Again I need to make an impression with some of those racist cows and let's face it, that hand is a conversation starter I don't want happening!"

"And for her to call somebody racist that's saying something," Pam remarked.

"For the hundredth time I'm elitist! Not racist!" Mallory snapped. "I believe anyone who has money and servants are equal no matter what their skin color!"

"Oh yeah that's a **lot** better," Ray groaned.

"You should have called him Con-Ray Twitty," Archer quipped.

"You know…" Ray snarled.

"Can it! Look this party isn't just for me," Mallory explained.

"Yeah it kind of is," Archer said.

"Will you all be quiet before I give you a Shut-Up-Ectomy?" Mallory snapped. "This is for our agency! Not only to raise money but get some decent contacts! The more rich people we can get as backers and/or clients the less we'll have to rely on the CIA for what few assignments we have!"

"And what exactly would these people hire us out for?" Lana asked.

"Dear God do I have to explain **everything** to you people?" Mallory was frustrated. "Rich people problems! Problems that only a very discreet competent secret agency can solve."

"Well that lets us out," Pam remarked.

"Everything from blackmail to bomb threats…" Mallory went on.

"Which are usually orchestrated by you," Lana pointed out.

"Death threats and kidnappings…"Mallory continued.

"Also you," Archer added.

"Or retrieving stolen property…" Mallory went on.

"Which you probably stole in in the first place," Krieger went on. "Like that artwork the police removed not even…"

"Listen you morons our jobs are on the line here! And if you people don't want to get thrown out back out into the streets where I found **half** of you…" Mallory shouted. "You will help me throw the best party this town has seen in years. And if you screw this up so help me…"

"I wasn't found on the street. I answered an ad in the paper," Pam spoke up.

"So did I," Cyril spoke up.

"Me too," Cheryl admitted.

"You said you wouldn't pay my bills anymore if I didn't become a spy," Archer spoke up.

"You kidnapped me from my father's mansion in Brazil…" Krieger began.

"Technically I wasn't on the street. I was just demonstrating on the street…" Lana added.

"And I was…" Ray began.

"OH SHUT UP!" Mallory yelled. "And get out of my office! I need to make some calls! And find a place that sells artwork cheap…Hopefully copies of the artwork that were taken away…"

The night of the party found Archer and Lana in their finest outfits standing in the ballroom at the Grand Tunt Hotel. Gleaming crystal and gold chandeliers adorned the red and gold walls of the ballroom. Real polished marble glistened so brightly they could see themselves in the floor. Beautiful artwork was on the walls highlighting the elegance of the arrangements on the tables everywhere.

"Now this is what a party **should** look like!" Mallory practically glided towards them wearing an expensive silver and gold evening dress and her fancier pearl necklace.

"Wow this place really looks amazing Mother," Archer whistled at the elegance and ambiance of the ballroom. "This place makes the Bellagio in Vegas look like a pigsty."

"It usually does after **you** visit there," Mallory gave him a look.

"How are you **paying** for all this?" Lana asked. "You're not stealing from our 401ks again are you?"

"No! Of course not!" Mallory protested.

Then she muttered under her breath. "There's not any real money left in those things anyway…"

"What?" Lana and Archer said at the same time.

"I mean it wouldn't be enough even if I did take the money which I didn't!" Mallory covered. "No, no! Cheryl is giving me this room for free for the night and the rest of the expenses I paid for. With money I can easily put back after tonight is over. We should have more than enough profit if all goes well."

"And now I'm worried," Lana groaned.

"Just do your part and don't lecture people so much Missy!" Mallory told her. "Remember, you and Sterling are a happy couple. And if you two cause another scene there will be Hell to pay. Not figurative Hell! Literal Hell!"

"When did we ever make a scene?" Lana huffed.

"Do you want the whole list or just the top ten?" Mallory scoffed. "Because one comes to mind! Number Three on the countdown with a bullet is The Secret Agency Secret Awards Dinner!"

Flashback…

"YOU ASSHOLE!" Lana shouted as she set a pair of expensive pants on fire using a candle. She was wearing a fancy black dress and standing in front of a long table full of people sitting there eating a meal.

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW EXPENSIVE THOSE PANTS ARE?" Archer yelled back at her. He was wearing half of his tuxedo and a pair of black briefs.

"WHAT DO YOU CARE? IT'S NOT LIKE YOU USE THEM IN THE FIRST PLACE!" Lana shouted. "WE ARE SO THROUGH!"

"OH IT'S GOING TO BE LIKE THAT IS IT?" Archer shouted.

"WHEN ALL MY SO CALLED BOYFRIEND DOES IS CHEAT ON ME YES!" Lana shouted.

"Great…Dinner theater," Ray remarked as he took a drink. He was sitting next to Mallory who looked very annoyed.

"I am so sending you the bill from my personal tailor!" Archer shouted.

"Fine! Might as well send me one from your dry cleaner too!" Lana grabbed a plate of food and threw it at Archer.

"Oh very mature Lana!" Archer ducked and the food hit someone else. "Fine if that's the way you want to play it!" He grabbed someone else's plate and threw it at her.

"Well there goes my appetite," Mallory groaned as her two top agents started a food fight. "Not that this overcooked brick that passes for chicken didn't already do that."

"BAHHHHH!"

"Is that a goat?" Ray did a double take. "And is it **glowing?** "

"Come back here Goatley!" Krieger was heard shouting.

"I knew I should have left him back at the lab," Mallory groaned.

"Who? Krieger or the radioactive goat?" Ray quipped.

"You have a point," Mallory grumbled as she took a drink.

"I can't believe I caught you in the coatroom having sex with that blond bitch from ODIN!" Lana shouted.

"Well what was I supposed to do? Not have sex with her?" Archer snapped.

"YES!" Lana shouted as she threw a bottle of champagne at him.

"Well that's just a waste of good champagne," Mallory winced as Archer missed the bottle and it crashed on the floor.

"Or mildly passible champagne," Ray winced as he took a sip from his glass.

"I know right?" Mallory remarked. "You would think whoever organized this so called banquet would have sprung for more than a three dollar bottle made in a New Jersey parking lot!"

"I have had it with you Archer!" Lana shouted at Archer.

"Well I've had it with **you!** " Archer shouted at Lana.

"I've had it with the both of you wrecking this dinner!" A man in a well-tailored grey suit shouted. He had tomato sauce all over his shirt and some on his face.

"Hey Pizza Face! Shut up! We're having a conversation here!" Archer barked at him. "And I don't know what the big deal is Lana! Yeah she was gorgeous but she was lousy in the sack! I mean you would think a woman with fake breasts that big would know what she was…"

"THAT WAS MY WIFE YOU SLEPT WITH YOU…?" The man pulled out a gun.

"Hey! It's not my fault your wife is bad at sex!" Archer pulled out his gun and shot at the man. "Maybe you two should go to a sex doctor or a prostitute or…"

The man was hit in the arm that wasn't holding the gun. "DIE!" He started shooting at Archer.

Archer managed to dodge the gunfire but someone wasn't as lucky.

"AAAH!" Brett was heard screaming. "YOU SHOT ME!"

"Well this time it wasn't my fault!" Archer snapped. "So stop complaining to me Brett!"

"AAAAAAAHHH!"

"Goately! No! Stop eating that man right now mister!" Krieger was heard shouting.

"Oh we are so not going to be invited to this event next year," Ray winced.

"NOBODY KILLS ARCHER BUT ME!" Lana did a flying kick that knocked the man with the gun out.

"Nice kick, Chun-Li," Archer scoffed. Lana responded by tacking Archer and they started to fight.

"Brett stop bleeding all over the floor!" Mallory yelled. "They could charge us for the mess you're making!"

FLASHFORWARD TO THE PRESENT!

"Which they did. And that is how our agency not only lost out on our only chance to win any awards and receive any recognition among our peers…" Mallory groaned. "We are banned from such events for life!"

"Oh who needs those stupid fake awards anyway?" Archer scoffed. "Everyone knows those things are so rigged. I mean the CIA runs them so…"

"Where's Ron?" Lana looked around. "I thought he was going to be here?"

"So did I," Mallory grumbled. "But apparently something at work happened and he backed out at the last minute!"

"Maybe he's backing in at the last minute?" Pam snorted as she walked up wearing a fancy outfit and hat. "I hear he's been hanging around Trudy Beekman a lot."

"If you are referring to those damn society gossip rags, those are as false as George Washington's wooden teeth!" Mallory snapped.

"Actually I was going by his e-mail," Pam said.

"You get Ron's e-mail?" Mallory did a double take.

"Yeah he gave it to me and Cheryl a while back," Pam said. "We send some Snackle-Snap pictures to each other sometimes."

"How come you have Ron's e-mail and I don't?" Archer barked.

"Why would Ron want **your** e-mail?" Mallory snapped. "That's the problem with you Sterling, it's always about you! When it should be about **me!"**

The sound of something rolling and beeping distracted Mallory. "Oh what fresh Hell is **this?** " Mallory was stunned at the sight.

Cheryl wearing an expensive red dress walked over with Milton the sentient toast machine. Milton had a black bow tie somehow pasted on the front. "Okay we're ready!" Cheryl said brightly.

"What the hell is that stupid overgrown toaster doing here?" Mallory hissed.

"He never gets to go anywhere," Cheryl said. "Milton needs socialization outside of work."

"It is a giant toaster!" Mallory barked. "The only socialization it needs is with an electric socket! What good is having that thing roll around?"

"To give the guests free toast! Duh!" Cheryl said. "Every party needs toasts!"

"Not that kind of…UGH!" Mallory groaned. "Fine. Whatever. I have more important things to do than worry about ants! It's not even my building anyway…Now if you'll excuse me, I have serving staff to yell at!"

She stormed off grumbling something about a tire iron hitting toast under her breath. Milton popped out some toast. "Free toast anyone?" Cheryl asked.

"This is going to be a long night isn't it?" Lana sighed.

"Yeah," Archer said. "You wanna have a quickie in the bathroom?"

"Don't mind if I do!" Pam spoke up.

"I was talking to Lana!" Archer barked.

"I know that," Pam said. "But if you're into a three way…"

"Why do I have the feeling this is going to be the highlight of my night?" Lana groaned.

Not long after guests arrived and the party went underway. Such as it was.

"Where the hell are the waiters?" Archer grumbled as he looked around with Lana. "I haven't seen one guy with drinks all night! What is this? Did Prohibition come back and no one told me?"

"There's some stuff at the buffet table," Pam walked over holding a tray of canapés. "This is pretty good…"

"Will you stop feeding your fat face Pam?" Mallory hissed as she stormed over to her.

"Eleanor! Remember?" Pam warned her.

"I don't care! Just stop eating food for my guests!" Mallory slapped the tray out of Pam's hands.

"Well great. Now we're going to get ants," Archer groaned.

"Where Eleanor Bouvier comes from that was a very rude gesture!" Pam adopted the voice of a haughty snob. "See if you get any more cheese balls for your parties!"

"Speaking of which Sterling you'd better keep it in your pants tonight mister!" Mallory snapped. "The last thing I want to deal with is how you defiled another one of my guests or prospective client's wives!"

"Considering the majority of women at this party are over eighty I think I might be able to restrain myself," Archer said wryly.

"Yeah he even turned down a threesome with me and Lana," Pam spoke up. The other three gave her looks. "What? I thought that showed great restraint."

"So am I. By not vomiting all over this floor," Mallory grumbled. "Not that there's anything in my system now. I haven't seen a waiter all night! Was Prohibition reinstated or something?"

"I already did that joke Mother," Archer said.

"There was some champagne in glasses at the buffet but that's all gone now," Pam said. "I had to shove some rich bitch for the last one."

"Let me guess, was it the woman with the black eye over there?" Lana pointed.

"Yeah the one giving me the stink eye with her good eye," Pam snorted. "What is she someone important?"

"No that's only Gertrude Genderhoff who's on the co-op board of my apartment complex," Mallory groaned. "And owns Genderhoff's Department Store. Great. And I thought she overcharged me before…"

"I thought there'd be more people at this thing by now," Lana looked around.

"You're right," Mallory frowned as she noticed something was off. "Not even half my guest list is here. I've heard of fashionably late but still…"

"Apparently when you get a reputation as an art thief people are less likely to come to your parties," Ray smirked as he walked over wearing a smart white tuxedo and a pair of very smart white gloves.

"What?" Mallory growled.

"Did you know Trudy Beekman has a cousin that's a member of the FBI's Art Theft and Fraud department?" Ray asked.

"I do **now**!" Mallory groaned. "Beekman…That fat bitch isn't here is she? Even though I invited that overweight cow so I wouldn't be rude to her."

"No, she's at her own party in her own mansion," Ray gave her a look. "Which I'm pretty sure is not a coincidence!"

"You scheduled a party at the same time as one of Trudy Beekman's?" Archer did a double take. "Mother that didn't work the **last time** you tried this!"

"In the first place I didn't schedule my party at the same time as Trudy Beekman's!" Mallory snapped. "I scheduled it **two hours** before her party. That way people had the option of either staying or even better…Going to Trudy Beekman's party, realizing how **inferior** it is to mine…Tell everyone else there how wonderful my party is. They leave her party and come **back** to mine! Leaving Beekman in a state of despondency realizing that I am her superior in every way!"

"Wow…" Lana was stunned.

"I know. Just when you think she's said it all," Archer admitted.

"Now I'm not saying I **want** Trudy Beekman to commit suicide," Mallory went on. "But if she ever did because of me I can certainly understand why."

"She just keeps on surprising you," Archer groaned.

"So that bitch Beekman is sabotaging my own party to enhance her own with her scurrilous gossip about my tiny legal problems!" Mallory huffed.

"Her and the internet," Ray remarked. "The artist you stole from is pretty ticked off."

"Allegedly!" Mallory snapped. "Allegedly! Has no one ever heard of due process in the country?"

"Have you heard of _paying people_ for their work?" Ray asked. "Although considering our salaries…"

"Why didn't you spread gossip about Beekman in order to sabotage her party?" Pam asked Mallory.

"Don't think I didn't try that!" Mallory barked. "I wrote e-mails and called everyone I could think of to say that Trudy Beekman was a lush, and a gossip and possibly cheating on her taxes! How the hell was I supposed to know she had relatives in the IRS?"

"And you wonder why you don't have more friends?" Ray groaned. Then he noticed something. "Say what's going on over there?"

"Oh dear God…" Mallory turned around and realized what people were staring at.

"Oh Krieger-San…" Krieger's holographic girlfriend wearing her usual revealing wedding dress was 'walking' among the guests with Krieger on her arm. "So fancy!"

"See? Now you can't complain that I never take you anywhere fancy," Krieger said to his VGF.

He frowned when he saw people giving him looks. "What are you all looking at? We're here! We're a reconstructed light field produced by a laser beam!" Krieger shouted. "Deal with it!"

"Oh yeah. That's something for your friends to talk about at Trudy Beekman's party all right," Ray snickered.

"Maybe I can spread around a rumor that he's into modern interactive art?" Mallory groaned.

"Maybe you can spread another rumor around that there are actual drinks at this lame-fest?" Pam snorted.

"Cheryl! Where are all the waiters?" Mallory asked angrily as Cheryl walked up to them. "I had some words with them earlier specifically instructing them **not** to screw up!"

"Yeah I kind of figured that because they just all went on strike!" Cheryl fumed.

"What?" Mallory yelled.

Earlier that evening…

"Listen you slackers," Mallory growled. "Those of you who can speak English translate this to those who don't speak a word. You'd better do your jobs well and not screw up or so help me…" She pulled out her gun from her purse.

The staff was frightened. "And the lucky ones will be the ones with bullets in their brains! If you really piss me off you'll find yourselves across the border missing your hands! And I don't mean Canada with their socialist health plan!"

Back to now…

"See there's this little clause their union put in under my father's running of the company that says that if anyone guest or management threatens them with a gun or chopping off their hands they have the right to go on strike!" Cheryl explained. "Thanks a lot Ms. Archer! And Uncle Cedric!"

Everyone looked at her. "He was my father's half-brother. My father put him in charge of the hotel for a time but that turned out to be a huge mistake," Cheryl shrugged.

"Was this around the time of the scandal surrounding the Great Tunt Hotel?" Lana asked. "You know? The one where the fourteenth floor caught on fire and the three dead hookers….?"

"And the ostrich. Yeah," Cheryl nodded. "Good thing Uncle Cedric also died in that fire or else we wouldn't have anybody to come work for us again. It was pretty gruesome how they found his body. Right under that giant roasted ostrich…"

"Damn girl…" Ray groaned. "Your family is so messed up…"

"Again coming from a man whose family are drug dealing hillbillies…" Mallory began.

"Drug farmers!" Ray barked. "Okay maybe a few meth labs too but still…"

"I really thought I'd have better friends by now," Pam groaned.

"Me too," Archer admitted.

"Just all of you mingle with the guests and impress them!" Mallory snapped. "Except for you Cheryl! Get your employees back right now! I don't care what you have to do! Just do it!"

"Fine! I'll go talk to them! Again!" Cheryl stormed off. "Ugh! Why do I have to do **everything** around here?"

"And get us some damn drinks while you're at it!" Mallory shouted. "And as for the rest of you…Go mingle or something! This party needs to liven up!"

"RARRRR!"

"Well a loose ocelot running around is definitely making things lively," Ray remarked.

"Why the hell didn't Cheryl put a leash on that thing?" Mallory groaned.

"You didn't put a leash on Cheryl," Ray quipped.

"Touché," Mallory conceded. "I admit you have a point."

"BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"

"That thing pelted me with stale pieces of burnt bread!" Some woman yelled.

"There is toast everywhere," Archer chuckled. "Boy Milton is really going to town!"

"RRARRRR!"

"AAAAAHHH!" Some people were screaming and running away.

"Great now the ocelot is mauling the guests," Mallory groaned. "That's going to stop a few checks!"

"Probably not as much as **that,"** Pam pointed.

For some reason Krieger was slapping a middle aged man in the face. "I will horsewhip you sir for what you said about my fiancé! If I can just find a horse!" Krieger huffed. "Or make one in my lab."

"Defend our love and honor!" Krieger's VGF cheered. "YAYYY!"

"On second thought maybe mingling with the guests can wait?" Mallory groaned.

"Wow Archer," Lana blinked. "For once you're the well behaved one at a party."

"You're right. This is a weird experience for me," Archer admitted. "Mostly because I've never been sober at a party before."

"Oh dear God it's a sign of the apocalypse," Mallory groaned. "Wait aren't you carrying around a flask of something?"

"Normally I do but things got a little rushed with the sitter and Lana and I sort of forgot it," Archer admitted. "Besides I didn't think I'd need it! You promised me drinks at this party! But once again you disappoint me!"

"And usually it's the other way around," Ray quipped.

"Speaking of disappointments where's Cyril? I haven't seen him all night," Pam looked around.

"There he is," Ray pointed. "He don't look too good."

"Uh guys! Guys! We have a problem!" Cyril gulped as he made his way over to them.

"I'll say. I haven't had a decent drink all night," Mallory grumbled.

"No, we have a real problem," Cyril was very nervous. "You know your friend Mrs. Sylvia Upton?"

"Yes. She's one of the wealthiest widows in the city," Mallory nodded. "Her husband was in oil and steel. Big money! She didn't leave the party already did she?"

"Not physically no…" Cyril gulped. "You see I was talking to her and talking up the agency like you instructed Ms. Archer…"

"Oh God Cyril you didn't chase her away did you?" Archer barked.

"No I didn't! In fact we kind of hit it off," Cyril gulped. "Very well actually…Apparently we both had an interest in elevators and before I knew it we were off inspecting the nearest elevator and…"

"And what did you do?" Mallory growled.

"More like who he did by the way his fly is open," Ray smirked.

"What?" Mallory shrieked.

"Getting yourself a little Heaven on the Seventh Floor huh Cyril?" Pam laughed.

 _"Love in an elevator!"_ Ray sang out. _"Living it up while going…"_

"Oh my God!" Archer groaned. "Wait for once I'm **not** the one who…Wow this is a weird experience for me."

"Typical!" Lana groaned.

"Way to go Cyril! You got lucky!" Pam laughed.

"Uh not so lucky…" Cyril gulped. "You see what happened was…"

"OH MY GOD! SHE'S DEAD!" Someone shouted. "MRS. UPTON IS DEAD IN THE ELEVATOR!"

"Oh dear God…" Mallory winced.

"She had a heart attack! It all happened so fast!" Cyril protested.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH HER FACE? WHY IS SHE SMILING LIKE THAT?" Someone else shouted.

"If it will make you feel any better she was very happy when she went," Cyril said meekly. "Ms. Archer told me to do whatever it takes to make the guests happy!"

"Not **that** happy!" Lana barked.

"OH MY GOD SHE LOOKS LIKE ONE OF THE JOKER'S VICTIMS!" Someone else shouted.

"Thank you very much Cyril!" Mallory snapped.

"Oh give Cyril a break! Like that's never happened to anyone before!" Archer barked. "Usually it happens to me on the occasional honeypot mission."

"Yeah that's happened to me once or twice," Ray admitted.

"Eh once it happened to me with a guy in a bar bathroom," Pam admitted. "And he was like forty and looked like he was in really great shape too!"

"Okay we can fix this!" Mallory held up her hand. "First of all find out who's the beneficiary of her will…"

"Good news! I settled the strike!" Cheryl walked over. "The bad news is that the drink service will be delayed because of a tiny little knife fight in the kitchen."

"WHAT?" Everyone shouted.

"When I promised the staff raises, I kind of somehow mentioned that the head chef's fiancé is having an affair with his sous chef and Julio the waiter," Cheryl shrugged. "Francois is **not** taking the news well."

"And how did **that** little tidbit come up in conversation?" Mallory barked.

"I sort of shoehorned it in," Cheryl admitted. "The night was getting kind of boring so I decided to spice things up a bit."

"So Cyril screwing a society matron into the great beyond isn't exciting enough for you?" Pam snorted.

"What? Oh it wasn't Mrs. Upton was it? She is such a whore," Cheryl remarked.

"It was," Ray added. "And she was."

"Anyway I promised them more money. So I'll add it onto what you are paying for the rental of the ballroom tonight," Cheryl said.

"I'm not paying for the ballroom! You lent it to me for the night!" Mallory snapped.

"No I said I could get you the ballroom for the night," Cheryl corrected. "I didn't say anything about paying for it. You can settle the bill with my stupid brother. It's his hotel anyway."

"You don't own the Grand Tunt Hotel?" Mallory was stunned.

"No. My parents gave it to Cecil in the will," Cheryl waved. "Apparently he and Dad spent a lot of time here when he was a kid. I dunno. I was out doing other stuff…"

"Probably setting fires somewhere and the smoke warped her brain," Ray whispered to Cyril.

"That's just what I was thinking," Cyril agreed.

"Technically Cecil doesn't even own it anymore. He gave it to his stupid girlfriend Tiffy for either a birthday present or an engagement present or for some stupid reason," Cheryl shrugged.

"Tiffy? That shrill little self-righteous harpy owns The Grand Tunt?" Mallory shouted. "Why didn't you tell me this?"

"Why didn't **you** ask?" Cheryl asked.

"She has a point there Mallory," Lana spoke up.

"Oh shut up you…" Mallory made a move but a squishing sound stopped her.

"And now I stepped in some toast…" Mallory grimaced. "That is soaked in ocelot piss!"

"He he he!" Cheryl giggled. "Oh man Tiffy is going to have such a fit! And she is so going to add a cleanup charge to the bill!"

"This party isn't going the way you thought it would is it?" Ray said cheerfully to Mallory.

"What do you think you…?" Mallory snarled. Before she could finish her scathing homophobic remark another sound distracted her. "What fresh Hell is happening now?"

"Princess Puddlespouts!" A woman screamed as Babou chased a small toy poodle around. "Get that monster away from my baby!"

"Hey! Give Babou a break lady!" Archer shouted. "That poor ocelot is probably lonely and wants it to be his friend!"

"YIPE!"

"RARRRR!"

"AAAAHH!" Everyone gasped in horror at what they saw.

"Or maybe he didn't want him to be his friend…" Cyril gulped.

"I'm guessing Cheryl forgot to feed Babou before she brought him here," Lana groaned.

"That's pretty much my guess," Ray blinked.

"Wow I did not know that ocelots ate toy poodles," Archer remarked. "Now I know…"

"And knowing is half the reason I usually don't spend my nights out with you people in the first place!" Mallory groaned.

"That is so going to be added to the cleaning bill," Cheryl giggled. "I have **got** to be there when Tiffy finds out!"

Ray winced. "That is so disturbing."

"Not half as disturbing as the time we saw those guys being eaten by alligators," Cyril pointed out. "But still disturbing nonetheless…"

"Tiffy is going to choke with rage!" Cheryl laugh.

"She's not going to be the only one," Lana noticed something. "Is that woman choking for real?"

"Why isn't there any water or drinks?" Someone shouted. "That stupid toast is so dry!"

"Ugh typical Myrtle," Mallory saw who it was. "She should know better by now than to eat five pieces of toast in one gulp! I swear a pig has better manners! Or Pam."

"Aww…" Pam smiled.

"Uh should someone be doing something?" Cyril asked.

"I think it's a little late for that. And another guest has died…" Ray groaned.

"Choked to death on some toast!" Mallory fumed. "I HATE THAT STUPID TOASTER!"

"Again not my fault!" Archer said cheerfully. "This is really interesting being the well behaved one for once."

"And scary," Lana admitted.

"I was just going to say that," Ray said.

"Me too," Cyril said. "Wait I smell burnt toast. Am I having a stroke?"

"Uh no…" Pam pointed. A table in the corner was on fire.

"Cheryl!" Mallory shouted.

"That wasn't me! This time," Cheryl admitted. "I know it's usually me but this time it's not! Swearsies Realsies!"

"Well if it wasn't you. And if it wasn't Archer," Pam reasoned. "Then who…?"

"SNAKES! AAAHHHH!"

"Oh great!" Lana groaned as she saw a couple of odd looking snakes slither across the room. "That explains it!"

"Krieger…" Everyone said at the same time.

"Krieger I thought I told you not to bring any animals here!" Mallory shouted.

"I didn't bring the laser snakes here! They followed me on their own!" Krieger snapped. "Or they could have already come here when they escaped from my lab."

"I told you we missed a few," Pam snapped as one of the snakes used lasers from its eyes to set a chair on fire.

"A few?" Cyril snapped. "We didn't find any snakes! We all ended up at the bar instead of hunting them!"

"YOU SAID YOU CAPTURED THEM ALL!" Mallory shouted at her son.

"Well obviously we lied," Archer shrugged.

"This is definitely not one of our better parties," Ray remarked as people ran panicking everywhere.

"Speak for yourself," Cheryl giggled as she jumped up and down, giggling and clapping her hands.

"Here snakey! Snakey! Come back to Daddy!" Krieger started to chase the snakes around. He barely dodged a laser blast. "Is that anyway to treat your father?"

"Guys we really should be doing something right now…" Cyril gulped. "With the panicking guests and the fires and the snakes…"

"Once again I have to take charge!" Archer groaned. "All right everyone calm down and listen to me!" No one listened. They were too busy screaming, panicking and running for their lives.

"I SAID CALM DOWN!" Archer took out his gun and shot it at the celling.

Unfortunately the bullets hit one of the chandeliers that crashed to the floor right on top of one of the guests. "Whoops…" Archer gulped.

"Who did Archer kill this time?" Ray groaned.

"Handel Denman," Mallory groaned. "He is…or was on the co-op board. One of the people I was trying to impress actually…"

"Maybe he's still alive?" Lana asked.

ZZAP!

"If he was he isn't now," Cheryl giggled. "Go snake fires!"

"Should have quit while I was ahead," Archer remarked. "Which considering how big the fires are getting we should too!"

"Yeah I think running for our lives is a **very appropriate** response to this," Ray gulped as the agents started to leave very quickly. "I've got enough issues without being burned alive!"

"Oh great!" Mallory groaned as she ran from the flames. "You just know Trudy Beekman is going to **love this**!"

The next day back at the office…

"The good news is I was able to use my contacts to cover up the laser snake attack and make it look like faulty wiring," Mallory said to her staff in a tired tone. "The bad news is that is the **only** good news out of the whole mess. Unless anyone else has something to say…"

"Well Julio the waiter died from his injuries in the knife fight this morning," Lana groaned. "Bringing up the official death toll of the Grand Tunt Massacre to nineteen."

"Twenty if you count that stupid toy poodle Babou ate," Cheryl casually filed her nails. "Babou and Milton are fine by the way."

"Who the hell cares about those two? Figures. The two casualties I'd enjoy…Other than Myrtle. And Lana did you have to call it the Grand Tunt Massacre?" Mallory snapped as she poured herself a drink.

"That's what they're officially calling it in the papers," Ray spoke up as he showed a newspaper.

"It's in the papers **already?** " Mallory snatched it from Ray. "Don't these people have anything more important to write about?"

"I guess a three alarm fire, a riot and an ocelot rampage at an iconic New York City hotel where several rich influential people died is the result of a slow news day," Ray quipped.

"Tiffy is so pissed," Cheryl giggled.

"We know. We all heard her screaming," Pam said. "Did you have to put the whole thing on speakerphone?"

"Wasn't me," Cheryl giggled.

"I hate that stupid pound sign," Mallory grumbled. "Almost as much as I hate Trudy Big Mouth Beekman! She just **had** to call me this morning to offer her **condolences** at the _**tragedy**_ that happened at my party! Bitch!"

Mallory groaned. "Thanks to your collective incompetence no one will ever hire our agency to walk their dogs! Let alone a real mission! This day cannot possibly get any worse!"

Just then the phone rang. "Wanna bet?" Pam snorted.

"And how much you want to bet that's the CIA calling to complain about last night?" Mallory groaned. "How the hell did they find out?"

"The front page news is usually a clue," Ray gave her a look.

"I got this Mother!" Archer grinned. He got up and hit the buttons on her phone. "There that should do it."

"You sent it to one of your stupid voice mails didn't you?" Mallory groaned.

"Yeah, I did," Archer grinned.

"Ugh. Fine. It's not like they could get any madder at us," Mallory waved.

Meanwhile…

"Finally!" Slater grumbled as he spoke into the phone in his office. "It took you long enough to answer!"

What followed was a blast of mariachi music blaring. "What the…?" Slater blinked.

Then a loud air horn resounded over the phone. "AAAAAAGGGHH!" Slater yelled as the sound blasted into his ear.

"Leave it stupid!" Archer laughed.

"The voice message box is full," Another recording was heard.

Slater yelled and broke his phone by slamming it down repeatedly. "That's it! I have **had** it with that asshole!"

Then he had a thought. He took out his personal phone. "Hawley. It's Slater. Say remember that mission that had a ninety nine percent chance someone was going to die? I say we give it to Archer and his crew of losers. Maybe we'll get lucky and it will be Archer?"


End file.
